This Is Where It All Began
by luvsbitca
Summary: Prequel to When It Really Doesn't Mean Anything. How did Barry and Arthur move from their relationship in the Justice League movie to their relationship in that story? Basically, fluff and not talking about much of anything important – plus, Arthur cooks.
1. Chapter 1

The first two chapters are really just my headcanon for this series and Barry so please bear with me through them and then we get down to the fun Arthur/Barry stuff.  
I am aware that 'Central City' implies a lack of access to the ocean but that just doesn't work for me so I'm ignoring it and assuming it's central and some other way.

 **This Is Where It All Began  
** by luvsbitca

Barry liked having a space of his own. His father was in jail and his mother was dead and he'd been kind of alone since he was nine. Sure, he'd moved in with his grandmother but by then she'd been old and frail and he had spent a lot of time by himself. He'd been lucky enough to make friends with Iris and had spent a lot of time at her house for a while but then he'd turned nineteen and his grandmother had had to go into a nursing home and then he'd really been on his own. Sure, he still spoke to Iris and her dad and they invited him over to spend time with them regularly and they were the place he went on Christmas and his birthday and other major days. They were his second family and he loved them desperately but it was still nice to come back to his place after leaving the loving, close family home they had.

He had already started university when his grandmother had needed to go into the home and he had had a couple of choices – give up school, put her in a crappy home, or live off the grid and manage both school and the costs of her care with the money he would have spent on an apartment. He'd chosen to live in abandoned warehouses, apartments, and houses with the occasional stint on Joe West's couch. It had come in handy after the accident when he'd lived partially by illegal means to make his suit and supply the materials he'd needed to fight crime.

Then Bruce Wayne had broken into his…squat and everything had changed. First, he'd met people who were also special even if most of them were special in different ways. They had saved the world and agreed to assist each other as necessary. Then it was over and Barry had headed back to Central City. When he'd landed Alfred had handed him an envelope, a set of keys, and a phone.

"Alfred?" Barry has questioned.

"From Master Wayne," Alfred explained. "The phone is untraceable and allows you to have contact with the remaining members of the 'Justice League' securely." Barry was very impressed with Alfred's ability to add tone to his words that made his feelings about the moniker known. "I could not say what is in the envelope as I would not presume to know or divulge Master Wayne's actions."

"So, you know exactly what it says," Barry said. "Thanks for the lift home. Will I see you next time we have a mission?"

"Invariably."

Barry grinned at him, slipped the stuff into his backpack and walked out of the private airport heading towards the city.

"Your car, Mister Allen," Alfred halted his movements and gestured to a car, driver standing next to an open door.

"Oh, right, thanks."

"You're welcome, goodbye, Mister Allen."

The envelope was open before the driver was sitting in his seat.

 _Barry,  
_ _I have secured a building that would suit your purposes quite well – it's industrial with minimal changes to make it habitable however it is private and has underground access. Alfred would have given you the keys. Please contact me if you would like extra security added. The address is 312 Cohn Street, Central City.  
_ _As your grandmother is located at a Wayne Industries nursing facility, her fees are no longer required as thank you for your assistance in the Steppenwolf situation. In addition, you have been awarded the Elizabeth Wayne Memorial Scholarship, your university has been contacted regarding the change and all information has been forwarded to your nominated email address.  
_ _Kind regards,  
_ _Bruce Wayne  
_ _CEO, Owner, Wayne Industries_

Barry liked Bruce – in a weird way, for a playboy billionaire, he was surprisingly socially inept when it came to the rest of the Justice League. Alfred may not like the name but Barry did enjoy it.

When the car stopped, Barry looked out to realise they had come to the new address, not his…old place. He needed his stuff but he didn't know what the deal was with the car and he could get it to the new address just fine.

"Thanks," he said, shoving the letter back into his backpack and climbing out of the car. The building was two-storeys, mostly non-descript. It was a 70s warehouse made of redbrick with high windows and looked like it had been recently cleaned as the setting sun was glinting off the glass. The car moved off behind him as he started towards the door; it was a faded, speckled blue and he had a thought about repainting it to look like the TARDIS but thought that might be a bit too conspicuous. He walked inside and saw boxes to the left, his stuff if the 'BA' written on the side and the shapes of both his first and second favourite chairs was any indication.

They had been holed up in Dytyatky for three days while they recovered and made sure that everything was over. There had been a contract awarded jointly to Oxford, CalTech, Wayne Industries Philanthropic, and Ecole Polytechnique Federale de Lausanne to research the area with so many major international organisations acting as secondary researchers that Barry had taken a full minute to read the whole list. Once it had been set up and they knew it was being contained and handled they had travelled to Paris for an additional two days. Then Arthur left to return wherever, Diana went back to her life, Clark flew off to avert something, and then Bruce, Victor and he had flown back to America and their previously scheduled lives. Except, apparently in that time Bruce had also organised his life.

He knew other people would be annoyed. He didn't understand exactly what it was he was supposed to be angry about. He understood this in a way he didn't understand brunch. Bruce didn't speak with his words. Barry had spent a lot of time discussing the different languages that people used when he was in therapy after his mother's death. His grandmother had been trying to get him to stop saying that his father was innocent as well as helping him cope with his mother's death. Barry had already been testing well beyond his age even though he'd been delayed in both speaking and reading and there was a level of social isolation that even now he had never learned to overcome. His therapist had helped him relate to his peers more than she helped him accept that his father was guilty because she'd been one of the few people who had listened. She was the reason he'd managed to become friends with Iris, someone who was almost as inquisitive as he was though she was much better at dealing with other people. Dr Quinzel would have said that Bruce spoke not through his words but through his actions and he been conditioned to believe that providing for people was integral to his method of showing affection. Bruce was saying that they were more than just people who occasionally saved the world – he cared about Barry and was showing that by helping him to look after his grandmother and get his degree and live somewhere where he wasn't breaking the law. Barry couldn't help but think he'd made the exact right choice that day Bruce had shown up and confronted him.

The walls were brick, there was a kitchen area that looked pretty new, there was a door on the other side of the space from the kitchen and he could see a shower through the door so bathroom. A second door cut off a part of the space and he suspected that was the bedroom. Overall, it was mostly just wide-open empty space. He looked around the space and thought about the best way to set everything up and then thought about the fact he normally slept in his first favourite chair and he could probably buy himself a bed now. He debated unpacking or sleeping first but the thought of a space that was really his made him want to take his time with it so he flipped the protective covering off all of the furniture until he found his favourite chair and then hunted through his boxes to find a towel and soap and had a shower before collapsing onto the couch and using the protective covering as a blanket.

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	2. Chapter 2

Honestly, what would Master Wayne do without Alfred?

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Barry woke up to the sound of the telephone. He fell off the couch and blinked blearily up at the roof for a moment before he realised the noise was coming from his backpack. He yanked it closer and riffled for his phone before hitting the accept button.

"Hello?"

"Good morning, Mister Allen."

"Alfred?" Barry asked, unsure as he rubbed as his eyes.

"Yes, I assume you found the warehouse to your liking?"

"Ummm, sure?"

"Did Master Wayne explain all of the features?"

"I think we both know he didn't," Barry replied, sitting down on the couch again.

"The building was converted to a living space for an artist two years ago however they abandoned it shortly after. Wayne Industries purchased it in an auction seven months ago to ensure that a development of the area was thwarted which would have given the Tzarichi crime family a stronghold in the city. When Master Wayne found your hideout he tasked me with looking into our holdings to see if we had something suitable. When you left for Chernobyl he asked me to organise the move – we had industrial cleaners come through the building as well as fitting all windows with security film which will hinder both visual and electrical surveillance. As I did not find a bed in your previous domicile I took the liberty of having one delivered to the warehouse. I have also stocked the cupboards and fridge with food to ensure your blood sugar does not fall to dangerous levels. I can assure you that I supervised the packing and movement of your belongings myself and the utmost care was taken both with your security and your belongings."

"Of course it was," Barry agreed. "Because this is the language that you and Bruce speak."

"Pardon?"

"Nothing, I like that I have a kitchen. Maybe I can learn to cook."

"That would be a good use of your free time; as you have so much of it."

"Maybe not…" Barry conceded – maybe one day.

"The building has access to an underground passage that connects, via a biometric security door, with the subway system allowing for entry or exit without detection should that be needed. The access is available through a hidden doorway in the closet."

"He also didn't leave me information regarding rent," Barry said, thinking back to Bruce's letter.

"There is no rent on this warehouse."

"I can't do that."

"Understandable," Alfred said. "I shall inform Master Wayne and organise an account for rent."

"Thanks, Alfred."

"In addition, it has come to my attention that a job is available in the Central City Crime Lab. With your current level of study and with a recommendation from Detective West you would be qualified for the job and would, I believe, stand an excellent chance of being successful in your application. Perhaps it would also assist you in accessing information for any side research you might be undertaking."

"Man, having friends is great. I still don't understand brunch but at least now I have people who watch out for me."

"How refreshing to not have to defend Master Wayne's heavy-handed approach to relationships."

Barry smiled into the phone – he liked Alfred. "Thanks for calling and explaining everything, Alfred."

"In addition, I have ensured that your power will be suitable for all of your machines."

"Excellent, I should probably unpack everything then."

"Best of luck, Mister Allen, please contact me should you need anything."

"Thanks again, Alfred."

Twenty minutes later his new place was completely set-up and he was sitting on his favourite chair eating a sandwich.

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	3. Chapter 3

And Arthur arrives...

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Barry got the job. His father was very impressed.

And then his life went back to normal. He went to see his grandmother every Saturday afternoon and went to see his father every Sunday morning. He worked. He studied. He saved people, though he had a new outlook on that ever since Steppenwolf and now looked at crime fighting from a different perspective. He went to have dinner with Iris and Joe for Joe's birthday. He thought about getting a cat. It was almost like the Justice League stuff had never happened.

Except for his job, and his home, and everything else that was intrinsically different.

Except for coming home one Thursday night after a morning of work at the crime lab and an afternoon exam, to find a body on his favourite chair, light snoring filling the air and the scent of the ocean in his lungs.

Barry crept over to the chair and looked down at Arthur's face, mottled with bruises and a long gash from forehead to ear. He didn't stir when Barry was peering at him which seemed like a bad sign so Barry slipped away as quietly as he could, had a shower, ordered pizza, and then settled into his second favourite chair to read and watch over Arthur.

The pizza arrived, and the guy who delivered it didn't even blink at the fact it seemed to be one guy ordering five pizzas. When he turned around, Arthur's strange grey-blue eyes were staring at him.

"Hey," Barry said, awkwardly waving while trying to balance the boxes.

"I needed somewhere safe," Arthur offered.

"Mi casa es su casa," Barry said. "Pizza?"

"Shower?"

"In there," Barry said, pointing to the bathroom. "There are towels under the sink."

Arthur leveraged himself up with a deep groan and stumbled to the bathroom. Barry was halfway through the first pizza when the water turned on and he heard the first of a series of muffled grunts throughout Arthur's shower until the water turned off. Arthur came out in nothing but a towel.

"I have nothing that will fit you," Barry said, eying the massive muscles encased in tattoos. "So big."

"Yeah," Arthur nodded. "Do you have any first-aid stuff?"

"Yes."

"My back…can you?"

"Sure," Barry agreed, shoving the last of his pizza slice into his mouth and going into the bathroom. He came back and swore when he saw the gashed lines running down Arthur's back. "This is gonna hurt."

"Just do it fast."

"I can do that," Barry said and sped up until he was blur of antiseptic and bandages. He stopped and stepped back. "Anywhere else?"

Arthur shook his head. "I'll heal but infections are still a bitch."

"Yeah, I know."

Arthur settled back onto the couch, throwing the plastic packing sheet that Barry kept around for injuries over the back and then reaching for a box. Barry sat down and turned the TV on, finding something that didn't make Arthur grunt his disapproval. Apparently, Aquaman liked renovation shows. Four hours later, Barry knew more about house renovation than he ever expected to know and Arthur had fallen asleep on the couch. Barry turned off the TV, throwing a blanket over the hulking Atlantean, and going to bed.

He woke up the next morning to the smell of bacon wafting through his bedroom. He stumbled out, rubbing at his eyes and yanking at the waistband of his sleeping pants – the elastic just a little too gone to stay where it was supposed to.

Arthur was breaking eggs into a bowl and Barry crashing into the wall in his surprise.

"Bacon?" Barry asked, rubbing at his now red shoulder.

"Yeah, thought I'd cook breakfast. Thanks for last night."

"Anytime," Barry offered grabbing orange juice from the fridge and climbing up onto the bench. "Want some?"

Arthur nodded. Barry reached up into the cupboard and grabbed two glasses, his eyes glued to the play of muscle under flesh as Arthur scrambled the eggs and poured them over the sizzling bits of ham, tomato, onion, and capsicum in the pan. The smell of garlic hit Barry and his mouth watered.

"You cook?"

"I like cooking," Arthur shrugged. "It's relaxing."

"Smells amazing."

Arthur grinned at him; that broad, cocky grin that Barry didn't want to admit made his stomach a little fluttery. Barry acknowledged his crush and then brushed it off – it would go away and amount to nothing like they all did.

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	4. Chapter 4

"I'm thinking about getting a cat," Barry told the team when they were in Metropolis fighting something large and green and slimy.

"Why?" Bruce asked just as Diana said. "That's nice."

"I always thought having a cat would be nice," Barry explained.

Clark burned out a blaze of fire from his eyes and flew through to knock one of the thing's tentacles away from the civilians. "I like cats."

"Cats hate me," Arthur murmured, throwing his trident into the soft underbelly of the creature except there seemed to be no soft anything and the trident glanced off the side of the beast and hit the ground.

"If you want a cat," Victor intoned from somewhere to the left, "there are several reputable cat havens in Central City. I can send you a list."

"Thanks, Victor…" Barry paused, a thought hitting him, "has anyone thought about the water content of a creature like this?"

"On it," Arthur called out.

Twenty minutes later it was over and they had all gone their separate ways.

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	5. Chapter 5

"You got a cat," Arthur said as soon as Barry walked through the door three weeks later.

"Yep, she's a rescue."

"I noticed," Arthur said, eying the cat; she was missing a patch of fur over one shoulder and a portion of her tail. "She has different eyes."

"She's special."

"That's one way of putting it."

Barry zoomed over to the cat, who didn't react, and reached out to scratch her under the chin. "You're a special, excellent cat aren't you?"

"She's unflappable," Arthur commented.

"That's one of the many reasons I like her."

"She's been eying me since I arrived."

"Probably because you broke into my home and she didn't realise that you're a friend who's allowed to visit without an invitation."

"You said anytime."

"And I meant it."

Arthur smiled at him. "What's her name?"

"Carter."

Arthur frowned. "Carter?"

"I was trying to think of a scientist and I didn't want it to be someone obvious, you know. So I couldn't name her Marie or Ada or something like that – I needed someone cool and I was watching TV and I caught an episode of 'Stargate' and I loved that show and I remembered how cool Carter was. I thought, I know she's not real but she is or was or whatever the most epic of the female scientists on TV when I was growing up."

"Okay."

"You have no idea what I'm talking about, do you?"

Arthur shook his head.

"Want me to explain it?"

Arthur shrugged.

"So, when I was a kid my father was put in jail because they think he killed my mother. Which he didn't, by the way. After that I went to live with my grandmother, maternal, but she was old and I was weird so I spent a lot of time at home, alone, watching TV and tinkering with any tech I could get my hands on. There were a number of shows that really helped me get through that time until I met Iris. Iris was the first person after my mother's death who really wanted to hang out with the weird boy whose father killed his mother. Anyway, I liked the show 'Stargate SG-1' and…actually, you would have loved Jack. I feel like you and Jack would share a spirit or something. He liked to blow shit up too, and he was a super bad-ass motherfucker and so are you. Though he couldn't swim underwater so maybe not like blood brothers or anything. Should I order Chinese? I don't know if I have anything in the fridge except leftovers." Barry walked into the kitchen and opened the door. "Nah, I'd have to cook so definitely Chinese. Do you like Chinese?"

"Who the fuck is Carter?"

"What?"

"You talked about your father and your mother and your grandmother. You talked about Iris and a TV character named Jack but no mention of Carter."

"Right, of course, Carter was one of the members of SG-1 the main team in the show. She was a soldier and a scientist and basically saved them and the world all of the time. She was amazing. And the show did get me really interested in astrophysics and mechanical engineering. We should watch an episode or two. The first couple are a bit unbalanced but once they settle into it it's a great show and the team as family trope is epic."

"Let me check, Carter is a female scientist from a TV show you really liked as a kid and that's why you named your cat Carter."

"Yep."

"Order me Szechuan beef."

"Deal."

Barry ordered and then did put 'Stargate' on. Arthur didn't even grumble about it after the first explosion.

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	6. Chapter 6

Barry turned the computer off and grabbed his backpack. He waved through the glass wall at his shift manager and then slipped into the elevator. He pulled out his second mobile and scrolled through to find Arthur's name.

The Atlantean answered on the fourth ring. "What?"

"Hi, Arthur, it's Barry…Allen…Barry Allen."

"I know."

"Of course, of course, um, I'm calling because I could use your help. There is something attacking workers at the docks. I'm pretty sure that whatever or whoever it is lives in the water as there has been evidence of salt water in the victims lungs, stomachs, and livers. The salt water has the distinct profile of Central City Bay and-"

"Sure, I can be there by midnight."

"I'll meet you at the docks then."

"Bye," Arthur ended the call and Barry shoved the phone back into his bag and unlocked his bike. He wondered if Arthur would want to sleep on his couch again after they stopped the murderer. He should probably get some food for after.

Barry had arrived at the docks a few minutes before midnight. Just in time to watch a great surge of water shot into the sky, Arthur emerging from it to land with a thump on the wharf. He was holding a squirming purplish…something.

"This is the culprit," Arthur told him. "They aren't normally this close to the coast and we've had a talk so this one is going back home and not killing anymore vile landwalkers who thought to take advantage of the sea."

"I suited up and everything."

Arthur shrugged and turned around to fling the purple being back into the ocean. "Oh well…"

"You…umm…coming back with me?"

"Sure, got nowhere to be for a few days."

"You can stay with me if you like."

Arthur smiled at him. "We can watch more of that show you like."

Barry nodded as Arthur strode past him. "Sure, sure." His mind was on the fact that if Arthur was wearing his under-the-ocean uniform then he wouldn't have anything to change into when they got back to his place meaning that he'd end up hanging out at Barry's place in a towel again.

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	7. Chapter 7

Someone was knocking on Barry's front door. Carter was pacing back and forth on the mat by the time Barry made it out of the bedroom. He threw open the door to find Arthur standing on the doorstep, a duffle slung over his shoulder and two shopping bags on the ground at his feet.

"Hey."

"Hey," Arthur grunted. "Can I crash here for a couple of days?"

"Sure."

Arthur took a step in and then froze. He whistled low and looked back at Barry. "How many monitors do you need?"

Barry realised that this was the first time that the other man had been over when his set-up was full extended. He had set up moveable stands for everything since he wasn't going to need to pack up and leave at a moment's notice this time and he packed the extra monitors away when he wasn't actively working on anything.

"I am running a number of sub-systems as well as actively doing some research so to save time I run everything through a different monitor. It's easier that trying to move between programmes because it never works as fast as I want it to. Victor has helped me engineer a new generation of processor that can cope about 300 times better with my typing speed but it's still for time efficient to run the monitors."

Arthur nodded with a nonchalant shrug and threw his bag on the chair and carried the food into the kitchen. "I thought I'd cook you dinner in thanks."

"You don't need to do that, but I'm pleased you are. What are you making?"

"Pizza."

"I hope you brought pineapple."

Arthur turned around and levelled a harsh stare on Barry. "Don't even joke about that crap."

Barry opened his mouth to explain he wasn't joking and then decided it was better not to.

"Is that the police database?" Arthur asked, staring at one of the monitors.

Barry looked at the screen that Arthur was indicating. "Yeah."

"For work"

Barry shook his head. "More of an illegal side-project. I'm working on finding out who actually killed my mother."

"Can you also scrub my old criminal record?"

"Victor already did," Barry said absently. "I'll just shut this all down and help you."

"Nah, the dough will take a while to proof so just keep doing what you're doing."

"You sure?"

"I don't tend to say shit I don't mean, Barry."

Barry looked at him for a moment. "Cool, cool, cool, cool, cool."

Arthur arched an eyebrow at him but didn't ask.

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	8. Chapter 8

"Ahhhhh," Barry cried out, speeding out of bed and pressing the intruder's body against the door.

Arthur grunted and pushed him away gently. "Careful."

"What?" Barry looked around the room, not his bedroom, Wayne Manor… "Where am I?"

"Do you remember the fight?"

Barry shook his head. Then groaned and grabbed his head, there was a bandage.

"You got hit fucking hard," Arthur said quietly, "lie back down."

"Yeah," Barry stumbled over towards the bed and sat down. "Sorry."

"No problem, I should have known I would startle you. I didn't realise you had woken up."

"I don't think I had until you came into the room with me."

Arthur smiled. "Good to know you have some defensive instincts."

"I will have you know I'm more than capable of defending myself," Barry said, unable to keep his eyes open as he spoke. "I'm terrifying."

"Yes, you are." Even though Barry could hear a note of amusement in Arthur's voice there was also a hint of something serious that made Barry try to open his eyes but they had grown heavy again.

"Stay…" he mumbled out as the world drifted away again.

Barry woke up sluggishly, the light in the room all wrong somehow and when he opened his eyes it was to find Arthur awkwardly squashed into a chair beside his bed, trident held loosely in his hand.

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	9. Chapter 9

Barry noticed that his kitchen light was on before he finished opening his front door. He ducked his head around and spotted Arthur passed out on his couch with Carter purring loudly on his chest. Barry could not work out how Arthur had ever had the gall to say that cats didn't like him. He crept towards his bedroom.

"You are not quiet," Arthur said gruffly.

"And you and my cat have bonded."

"She's not very smart."

"She's brilliant."

"A smart cat avoids an Atlantean."

"A smart cat knows that the Atlantean that crashes here regularly isn't nearly as scary as he makes himself out to be."

Arthur cocked an eyebrow at him.

"My cat is purring on your chest; that trick no longer works on me."

Arthur's smile was tiny. "I made paella; it's still on the stove."

Barry beamed at him. "You are the best guest ever."

"You can thank me by putting on the TV and finding something decent to watch."

Barry nodded. "I bet there is one of those shows about renovating a house on."

Arthur shrugged.

"I know your secrets, Mr Curry, and one of those if your love of renovation shows. Luckily for you I can keep a secret."

"Luckily for you," Arthur corrected.

"Want a drink?"

"There is a bottle of whisky in the cupboard."

Barry shook his head; of course there was now a bottle of whisky in his cupboard. Just like there was a set of clothing jammed into the very back of his bathroom cabinet. Barry wasn't sure if mentioning it would break whatever unspoken spell of friendship they were under.

That night, Barry ate paella that made him want to speed back in time so he could eat it again while Arthur lay on his couch drinking whisky, petting his cat, and they watched a succession of renovation shows.

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	10. Chapter 10

Barry sat in his desk chair and twirled. He was bored, bored. Bored!

Work was quiet. The university semester was over but the winter additional courses hadn't yet started. It had been hard to convince them that he could in fact handle two compacted units but they had finally given in since here was nothing to say he couldn't. The Flash seemed to have discouraged a lot of the petty crime he dealt with on a daily basis. It had been three weeks since Arthur had broken into his warehouse home.

He had watched everything interesting on TV. He'd run every programme he'd been planning but hadn't had time to develop. He'd even cleaned the warehouse.

He was bored…

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	11. Chapter 11

Barry sneezed and his speed force jumped him back into the wall.

"You're sick," Arthur said, walking over to pick him up. He helped Barry over to the couch.

"Yeah, not sure what it is but it's messing with my speed force."

"That must have been a pain when you were growing up."

Barry frowned at him. "What? Getting sick?"

"No, controlling the speed force when you were sick or…I had so much trouble with sharks when I was going through puberty. They kept showing up at my dad's lighthouse. A bunch of scientists even came to investigate the phenomenon."

Barry laughed. "You attracted sharks when you were going through puberty."

Arthur shrugged.

"But, I didn't have these powers when I was young. I got them about six months before we met."

"How?" Arthur asked, eyebrows knitted – making the scar stand out even more than normal.

Barry sneezed again and the book he'd been reading flew off the table. "Eww."

"It's mostly just air. Do you have tissues?"

"In the bedroom. I like the bed that Alfred bought me."

Arthur walked into the bedroom and grabbed the tissues and then sat in Barry's now second favourite chair.

"So, do you remember that massive storm that hit about a year ago?"

Arthur nodded.

"It brought an unprecedented electrical storm to Central City. I was in the lab at university late one night and I was struck by lightning. At the same moment the lightning forked and broke most of the bottles of chemicals that were in the room with me. I don't know what the exact combination was but there was a combination of chemicals, ionisation, electricity and my body that caused the conditions that led to me developing these powers. I was in a coma for about six weeks. When I finally got home I discovered the ability and I was freaked out for a while but then I did what any good scientist would do – I ran experiments on myself until I understood what I could do."

"What can you do?"

"Speed, there is something additional to it though – something I call the 'Speed Force' which allows me to move superhumanly fast but also protects me from the forces that would normally be working against me when I am moving at that speed. In addition, I have reflexes and thought processes that match my speed. And I can hit people really hard."

"And trip over your feet," Arthur said with a grin.

Barry grabbed a clean tissue, balled it up, and threw it at Arthur…it sailed through the air for a second and then dropped into the space between them. Barry groaned at the display.

"Will you be okay if I duck out for a few minutes?" Arthur asked, staring at the tissue.

"Why?"

"I'll go grab the stuff to make soup."

"You don't need to do that," Barry said.

Arthur shrugged. "What do you even eat when I don't come around?"

Barry shrugged. "There's good take away in Central City and I can cook."

Arthur arched an eyebrow and went over to grab his jacket. "I've seen the leftovers in your fridge. I'll be back soon."

"I could get there faster."

"You could also sneeze and create a hurricane." Arthur strode out of the door with a flick of his coat.

"I'm watching _'Masters of Flip'_ without you," Barry called to his back.

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	12. Chapter 12

"Barry." Arthur called.

"Yep," Barry sped over and stopped, the force of the wind acting against Arthur's hair and making Barry's mind stall for a moment.

"You really can run across water, right?"

Barry nodded.

"Then I have a plan," Arthur said. "You go over the top, I go underneath. We'll distract them while Victor breaks in."

"I can do that," Barry said. "I'm good at running really fast and pushing people over."

Victor rolled his eyes and flew up into the air.

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	13. Chapter 13

Arthur crowded Barry back into the cupboard. Barry looked up at him, not sure what was happening.

"Arthur?"

Arthur smiled and pressed in closer, catching his lips again. It was a soft, closed-mouth kiss until Barry grew warm and soft and then Arthur pressed him firmly into the cupboard and licked his way into the other man's mouth. Barry curled his hands into Arthur's shirt and moaned.

Barry had no idea what had prompted this change in mood but he was certainly pleased that something had changed. When he'd come home, half an hour ago, nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

 _Barry heard the water running in the shower when he let himself in and spotted Arthur's trident peeking out from behind his couch; where Arthur tended to put it when he came over. Barry walked towards his room but paused to knock on the bathroom door._

 _"Hey, Arthur, I'm home." He moved to walk away but had to pause and screwed up his courage before he spoke the next words. "I had…I moved your clothes into the top right drawer. I also put a toothbrush in there. I mean, I put it in the drawer mainly because Iris was coming over and she's super noisy. Don't feel you have to put it back in the drawer or anything. I keep mine in the green cup on the bench and yours can go there too. I just…I'll just leave you to the shower."_

 _Barry had continued into his room and changed out of his work clothes. He had gone into the kitchen after that and riffled through his fridge, he was hungry but he knew exactly what he wanted and started collecting all of the necessary ingredients._

 _When the bathroom door opened Barry was putting the top pieces of bread on the sandwiches in the frypan._

 _"I know you don't think I can cook," Barry said. "But, I can cook toasted cheese sandwiches and even I cannot fail at heating tomato soup from a can."_

 _Arthur grunted._

 _"You cannot be so much of a food snob to have an issue with tomato soup."_

 _"Have you ever eaten proper tomato soup?"_

 _Barry looked over at Arthur, he nodded at the can. "That's the real brand and everything.'_

 _Arthur shook his head. "I'm talking about soup made from real tomatoes on the stove."_

 _"You can do that?"_

 _Arthur stepped close and groaned out. "You are a mess."_

 _Then Arthur had kissed him, pressing him into the cupboard._

Barry reached out blindly, hoping he would be able to reach the stove and turn it off because nothing was going to pull his lips away from Arthur's until he was light-headed and about to pass out. But the Atlantean pulled away and turned to shut the gas off and then pull Barry back into him. Barry curled his fingers into the wet strands of Arthur's hair and pressed his whole body into the Atlantean's.

"Barry," Arthur said, pulling back and looking into the other man's eyes.

Barry smiled; he couldn't hold his lips in place so he leaned up to kiss Arthur again. It must have been the right answer because they started moving backwards through the kitchen and into Barry's bedroom. Arthur's hand first cupping Barry's arse and then finding its way up and under his soft shirt. Barry froze for a second and Arthur immediately pulled back.

"Barry?"

"I haven't done this…" Barry stuttered to a stop, mad at himself for stopping what he wanted, what he'd been daydreaming about, fantasising about, for months.

"Ever? Or just with a guy?"

Barry shook his head. "Since the accident; I don't know what will happen."

Arthur grinned, devilish and smouldering. "Then we'll just have to find out."

Barry nodded and walked further into the bedroom, reaching down to pull his shirt up and over his head but Arthur pressed into Barry's back and stopped his hands. Arthur's hands pressed on the bare skin of the other man's stomach and smoothed it up, carrying the material with him, Barry's cock jumping.

Arthur took the rest of Barry's clothes off in similar, strangely close and erotic ways and by the time the smaller man was naked he was also achingly hard and desperate to feel Arthur pressing into him. Arthur continued to take his time, licking at Barry's nipples, the lines of his abdomen, the soft skin inside his thighs. He opened him slowly, eyes caught on Barry's and a dark lust in his eyes that made Barry feel like a siren or water nymph bewitching the Atlantean to desire and sin. Barry shook the fanciful, romantic notions from his mind as Arthur loomed over him, bent him in half and pressed in. The smaller man gasped with what little oxygen was left in his lungs after Arthur bottomed out. He gripped Arthur's shoulders, pulling the larger man down to press him even more tightly into the mattress – he wanted to feel the weight of the other man overwhelming him. Arthur complied with a low grunt, pushing one of Barry's legs down and letting the other wrap around his backside so that he could rock, rock, rock into Barry from so close Barry could smell the mint toothpaste on his breath.

That was all it took. Barry couldn't resist the tight confines or the startling sparks of pleasure overwhelming his body so he threw back his head and called out Arthur's name as his body gave in and he came between them. Arthur followed him so quickly it felt like their orgasms were linked. The Atlantean collapsed down onto him and Barry curled himself around the other man, hoping to hold him in place for as long as possible.

It was long enough for Arthur moving off him to wake Barry. He felt sweaty and relaxed in a way he couldn't remember feeling in years but he wouldn't like waking up in the morning like this so he grabbed Arthur's hand and pulled the other man into the shower, where they proved that Barry's powers extended to refractory periods. They slipped into the bad afterwards and slept.

Barry woke alone. When he left the bedroom it was to find the whole warehouse empty. Arthur's trident was no longer on the floor behind his couch. He turned on the TV as he made himself a bowl of cereal. The news was reporting on the miraculous rescue of a boat lost off the coast of Hawaii carrying two families. There was a recently pregnant woman, holding a baby still covered in white muck, talking about the long-haired man who saved them. Barry smiled around the spoon in his mouth.

The following Sunday when he came home after visiting his father, it was to find Arthur on the couch, Carter sitting on his left shoulder as the Atlantean fed her bits of chicken from his plate.

Arthur smiled at Barry. "Roast chicken is on the bench and the salad is in the fridge."

"Salad?" Barry asked, surprised as he threw his scarf and jacket onto the table.

"Potato salad and coleslaw."

"That makes more sense," Barry made himself some lunch and settled on the couch next to Arthur.

When they were done, but before the final renovation was revealed, Arthur was looming over Barry and groaning at the stretch of the younger man pressing inside him.

 **The End**


End file.
